


But It's Christmas, Crowley!

by Felix_Nikolla



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Again, And more than cuddles, But Christmas this time, Christmas, Consenting Cycle Repairmen, Cute things, Fluff, Hugs, Kisses, M/M, bet, gay shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 09:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12932619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felix_Nikolla/pseuds/Felix_Nikolla
Summary: Crowley isn't really into the Christmas spirit this year. Or any year. But with luck, Aziraphale hopes to change that...





	But It's Christmas, Crowley!

"Christmas is stupid."

On the spot, Aziraphale turned around, a tad surprised by Crowley's words. He hadn't considered Crowley one to say such things, but then again, he was a demon. After looking his companion over, Zira turned away once more, teetering on his step stool in hopes of getting his precious decorative angel on the tree's top.

"What makes you say that, dear?"

"I dunno. I guess most of it. The consumerism is nice, rots at people in greed, but there's all this holy shit-"

Rolling his eyes, Zira eventually stopped, hurrying off to get tinsel. He wasn't exactly tense, but he couldn't relax either, which definitely caught Crowley's attention. It was also a huge factor as to why, when Zira came back, Crowley found himself poking at the angel's wings, as if asking for permission. They were soft anyways, which was a major benefit-

"You seem to have a thing for holy stuff, if you ask me."

On the spot, Crowley decided to hide his face in a cluster of white feathers. They both knew exactly what Zira was referring to, and this was not helpful in keeping Crowley's cheeks their usual pale color, as opposed to bright red.

"You don't count, angel! You know that at this point, don't be rude-"

"I'm not! I'm just making a point, dear."

With a small huff, Crowley started thumbing his way through Aziraphale's feathers, feeling the angel shiver and relax. He found himself tempted to pull on those pure, white wings, and while he normally liked temptation, this was a time Crowley simply refused. After all, Zira was still on the stool, and Crowley'd be damned before he knocked the other over. He studied the tree as best he could while he worked, thinking to himself. It was rather nice, but he'd never admit that. He wouldn't confess how pretty Aziraphale looked in the Christmas lights, either, eventually rubbing at his cheek with a small huff.

"Why are we even doing this? No one comes over!"

This was a poor choice of words, as Aziraphale promptly groaned, shaking his head.

"We've already discussed that, dear, it makes the shop look nice. And it brings everything into the Christmas spirit as well-! Something you clearly don't have..."

Scoffing, Crowley reached up, that being the only response he could currently muster. Besides, Zira was right. Damn angel was aways right, so all Crowley could do was try and be a nuisance. It eventually seemed to be working, as he gently massaged the bases of Aziraphale's wings, biting his lip. He knew perfectly well how sensitive the angel was there, and it showed in the small, absolutely adorable noises Zira was making. Eventually, he grew too flustered, blushing furiously as he got down to swat at Crowley's hands.

"Oh- you old serpent! You're inappropriate!"

Again sticking with a minimalistic response, Crowley stuck his tongue out, offering a sip of his eggnog.

"Would you expect anything less?"

"...No."

Swiping it, Zira gave a loud huff, before hurriedly taking a sip. He set the glass down when he was done, looking Crowley over in a suspicious manner. Not that this was necessary, of course, as Crowley didn't much like alcoholic eggnog himself. It was one of the few things that drink hampered the taste of, in his opinion. Eventually, Aziraphale cleared his throat, ruffling his wings a bit.

"...You have oil all over your hands."

Indeed, Crowley did. He snorted, shaking his head, and hurriedly wiping his hands on Zira's ugly Christmas sweater.

"Yeah, you're right, here. Early present."

"eWW- CROWLEY NO-"

Trying in vain to get the natural oils off his sweater, Aziraphale whined, spinning in circles. He eventually turned towards Crowley, gently slapping his shoulder.

"Why my sweaterrrr? What do you have against sweaters-"

"It's Christmasy."

Huffing again, Aziraphale crossed his arms, thinking. Then, a small smile crept across his face.

"Crowley, dear, I think our opinions on this holiday are strewn. How about a bet?"

"Bet-?"

This immediately grabbed Crowley's attention, and he grinned, rocking on his heels.

"What kind of bet?"

"If I can convince you that Christmas is better than you think, you'll wear this sweater all throughout January. And you won't get to complain or take it off, ei-"

"I'm in."

Cut off, Aziraphale stopped, closing his mouth. He took a moment to process these words, before wrinkling his nose, moving just a bit closer.

"You didn't let me finish-"

"Don't need to. If I win, I get to record you dancing to the worst song these humans can come up with."

Kissing his fingertips, Crowley pressed his hand to the top of Aziraphale's head, and hurriedly left the room. Shame was creeping in at his cowardice, his inability to properly bestow kisses. Who knew how Zira would react? And besides, demons were supposedly crueler than angels, it wouldn't look well...

"That's hardly fair-!"

"Totally fair, angel! You're not changing my opinion!"

In the moment, that seemed to be the end of it. Oh, how wrong Crowley was.

~~~

Despite all their years of knowing each other, one thing the angel and demon had never discussed was weaknesses. It was unspoken, really, considering that they both knew what would harm each other, mainly because of stories or previous encounters. Hell, Crowley had used holy water on his own kind before. But for all they knew, they'd never found reason to discuss emotional weakness, rather than physical.

Crowley was very much so discovering an emotional weakness, and with no idea how to feel about that, he ended up confused. Aziraphale had insisted on making gingerbread houses, but so far, nothing they tried was going to plan. Unfortunately, there wasn't a kit stand, so they were on their own. They weren't even halfway done before Crowley looked over, and if things hadn't gone downhill before, they were about to right in that moment. Icing was smeared on Aziraphale's face, very nearly infecting his hair. He was doing his damnedest to keep the house up with said icing, but it wasn't sticking to the plate as much as it was to his face. He was absolutely beautiful, and all Crowley wanted to do was clean him off... With his mouth, and snake tongue. Soon after that thought, he grew flustered, cheeks burning and hands starting to shake. Aziraphale noticed eventually, when Crowley, who he'd put in charge of the icing, shaky handed icing all over his wrist. He pouted in response, before trying to lick it off, looking over.

"Crowley, dear, the goal is to stick the gingerbread, not me."

Even the self cleaning was flustering. With a hurried nod, Crowley grabbed for his pocket, hurriedly putting his sunglasses on first. He'd gone past being comfortable with everything. Although this action seemed to annoy Aziraphale, he didn't say anything, getting back to work. Trying not to mess up again had Crowley focused at first, but his mind eventually wandered back to Aziraphale. Sweet, pretty Aziraphale, with his fluffy vessel and fluffy wings and heart full of forgiving fluff. It was almost too much to bear...

"Crowley? Crowley!"

Crowley yelped, surprised. He'd gotten too distracted, groaning softly and rubbing at his face.

"Uh- yeah, angel-?"

"What on earth are you doing?"

"...Thinking?"

The two studied each other for a moment, before Crowley cracked a smile, coating his finger pad in icing to eat.

"You're messy, angel. Maybe we should finish up-"

"I'm not stopping until you're having fun."

Crowley wrinkled his nose at this, shaking his head, as he started covering the sides of their house in icing for decorations. As it turned out, Aziraphale had almost gotten it perfect... But the house was sure to cave in. He eventually set the icing down, doing his best to help decorate. Although it'd almost taken the whole time, Crowley realized that he was, indeed, having fun. Besides, Aziraphale was an adorable bonus.

Swiping a gumdrop when they'd finished, Aziraphale looked over again, extremely pleased with the happy look on Crowley's face.

"That was fun, wouldn't you say?"

"Hell yeah-"

The demon snorted, returning Aziraphale's gaze, and lifting his sunglasses up. It was moments like these that really got Crowley going, where the electricity flowed and could be felt. Still blushing, he turned back to the house, watching it slip.

"And- would you say Christmas is still stupid?"

Crowley cleared his throat after a moment, turning to face Aziraphale. He held up his hand, counting down. Three, two, one-

With a noticeable crash, the house fell to edible rubble, and happy with his sense of humor, Crowley sprinkled gummy bears, to account for the deceased.

"This house is my belief in Christmas. Does that say anything to you?"

Aziraphale didn't have a response, huffing softly, and ruffling his feathers. He'd worked hard on that house.

~~~

"Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its' wings!"

Crowley lost it at that. He'd found the film interesting up until the child had said her line at the very end. Rolling his eyes, Aziraphale sunk lower into the couch, up until he felt a tug on his wing, which Crowley was laying on. He thought he'd actually made a breakthrough at first... It seemed he was wrong.

"I thought it was a good movie-"

"Oh my damn liFE-"

Crowley started wheezing again, as Aziraphale whined, trying to pull his wing back. Sure, he was comfy and warm, but Crowley was starting to pull on it, which didn't help. He'd start having problems at this rate. Thankfully, Crowley eventually sat up, still wheezing while Aziraphale folded his wings. He wasn't terribly happy with this, and his face inevitably betrayed him when Crowley looked over. He snorted, stopped, and rubbed at his eyes.

"Jesus- you alright, angel?"

Aziraphale went to reply, before hesitating. He considered his initial response, bit his lip, and sighed.

"...I thought you'd like this movie..."

Crowley seemed to sober up, looking from the credit-scrolling TV to Aziraphale.

"Oh- I did, angel! It was great!"

"You laughed-"

"Noooo-"

Shaking his head, Crowley leaned over, grabbing Aziraphale's shoulder. He yanked the angel closer, fussing to himself, and soon enough cuddling him.

"It was a wonderful movie! Wonderful life, wonderful movie! Don't be upset, angel-"

The two were silent for a little while, Aziraphale watching the credits and blushing all the while.

"...What about Christmas...?"

When he asked, this time, there wasn't an immediate response. Crowley was honestly enjoying the holiday thus far, but he didn't truly want to lose their bet. Aziraphale's ugly Santa sweater was absolutely dreaded-

"Hell nah. Too much religion, not enough suicide. That was only one scene."

"That wasn't the point of the movie!"

"And all you angels are so annoying-"

Aziraphale whined his displeasure, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Crowley had forced his hand, and it was time to be brave... Eventually. Not quite. He was too scared still, it would most definitely take time. So, to minimize that time, he conjured up himself a glass of wine, and a much more comfortable spot on Crowley's lap.

~~~

He bought a box, first. A large one. Aziraphale did his best to behave like it was heavy, happy when he caught Crowley's attention with it. Huffing and puffing, he set the empty box down, before looking around to try and wrap it. Curiosity proved to kill more than just cats, as Crowley investigated, his small tongue flickering over the box before Aziraphale returned, starting to cover it in paper.

"What's this, angel-?"

"It's, uh-"

Pausing in between words, Aziraphale bit his lip, looking his wrapping job over.

"Your Christmas present! If you want it anyways, since you're against it and all-"

Crowley gasped, seemingly offended. He also crossed his arms in accompaniment, watching as Zira picked up the box again. It wasn't totally wrapped, but it couldn't be if something "heavy" was inside. Setting it next to the Christmas tree, Aziraphale looked it over, yelping as he felt his hips end up in Crowley's grip. He was picked up, and marched away, at which he burst into giggles.

"Now what, dear?"

"I wanna know!"

Crowley stopped in the kitchen, setting Aziraphale on the counter, and wandering around. It appeared he was doing his damnedest to make tea, but he couldn't find the bags. His inability was increasingly frustrating, as evident by his face, only halted when Zira took a deep breath.

"You don't have to bribe me, dear. I could just show you-"

Making a prompt 180, Crowley was in front of the angel in no time, grinning.

"Show me, then!"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

With the response of enthusiastic nodding, Aziraphale smiled, happy it had worked out. He got down from the counter eventually, Crowley's hands still on his hips as he shuffled along. Honestly, Zira didn't mind much, as the grip had a calming effect on him. He stopped before of the front door eventually, after wandering around and taking note of where the rest of his traps were. Turning to face Crowley, Aziraphale smiled, and lifted Crowley's chin.

"Alright-! Tell me dear, what's that?"

"...A plant?"

Crowley sounded confused, which only made Aziraphale's grin grow.

"Of sorts! And do you know what the humans do under these?"

There was a pause, before Crowley shook his head, looking down.

"Not particularly. I don't usually pay attention this time of year... Is there something you're referring to?"

"Mm-hm."

At this point, Aziraphale's soft, adorable hands had made their way to Crowley's shirt, playing with the buttons. Still unaware, Crowley chuckled, watching this happen.

"What's that, then?"

Slipping his hand behind the demon's head, Aziraphale mumbled a quiet "this", giggling quietly. Before Crowley could react, their lips met, and Aziraphale moved to hug him, his wings a bit fluffy from anticipation. Worried about the response, he tried to pull back and ask, before Crowley shoved his own head forward, pulling Zira back in. It seemed to be a yes. Eventually, the angel decided the hassle of mistletoe was worth this response of a warm embrace and an incredibly, extremely overdue kiss. He giggled some more, before pulling his head away, running his tongue over his lip.

"So... Still sure that this isn't any good?"

"The holiday?"

Crowley considered this for a moment, before his hand found its' place on Aziraphale's hip, pulling him a bit closer for a forehead kiss.

"Maybe you don't make it so bad..."

"Good! You've got a sweater to wear!"

Zira paused, thinking as well, before smiling again.

"And things to make up for, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, we're too awkward. Honestly, it's been centuries now-"

Aziraphale couldn't help but agree. It'd taken almost a week, but Crowley had finished forming his ideas on Christmas: it was still stupidly religious. But greed was everywhere, Santa was hilarious, and Aziraphale? He was what made the whole holiday worth it in Crowley's eyes. He tried hard, and he was set on making it the best every year.

To Crowley, just Aziraphale's presence made it the best.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! I said more was coming, and here it is! I've been at a loss of inspiration for a while now, and I'm real sorry about that. Hopefully this makes up for it! I hope you guys enjoy my early Christmas present, it's merry and gay. :3  
> I'll try and write more soon! <3


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